nas
as the voice of a spirit. He rose upon his feet, and his whole soul
trembled with the wonderful words it spoke to him, though as yet he
hardly understood their meaning. He went to the door and gently opened
it. The back of the high organ stood opposite to him. He did not wish
to be observed, and he passed quietly along at the end of the large
room until he saw the musician. Could it be the master? Yes, Jonas
recognized the long curling beard, and even the _baton_ as it lay upon
a chair. Amidst the glowing chords the boy contrived to pass on
unnoticed. He remembered that in two days he must again present
himself. Could that terrible personage be confronted with an imperfect
scale? The very thought was a shudder. Besides, Jonas felt an
inspiration now. He again burned to be a musician. The revengeful
spirit had left him--he thought only of Sebastian Bach.

A small organ had been placed in the little garret where Jonas slept.
Thither he repaired, and commenced the work that ever since he has
performed so well.

The dreaded master found no fault with the next lesson, and as Jonas
advanced and he perceived that he studied with a zeal, an earnestness
quite unusual in a boy, his stern manner relaxed, and he dared allow
all the warmth of his heart to cheer his now beloved pupil.

At the end of five months Jonas met with a great misfortune. His
master, after a short and sudden illness, died--which so cut him down
that the organ-builder feared for his son's health. The boy stoutly
refused to work under any other teacher, assuring the family that he
felt able now to go on alone. Early morning and late evening found the
young musician at his organ in the garret. Those who read this
biography will scarcely believe how great was his progress. But I
state facts.

Just after he had entered his twelfth year he happened to overhear two
men, in a music store, conversing about a church in the upper part of
the city, where the organist was to leave in a few weeks. Jonas
listened.

"He plays in too operatic a style to suit the congregation," said one.

"Yes," said the other, "the simpler the playing the better they are
pleased."

"Where is the church?" asked Jonas.

"It is Saint C----'s, in ---- Street."

Jonas returned to his organ, swelling with a new and great idea. The
following Sabbath morning he went very early to the church. No person
had arrived except the organist who was arranging music in the loft.
Jonas stepped u